


Cross that bridge when you get to it

by dev_chieftain



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-27
Updated: 2011-07-27
Packaged: 2017-10-21 20:15:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dev_chieftain/pseuds/dev_chieftain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kotetsu gets back to Stern Bild in the middle of a thunderstorm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cross that bridge when you get to it

**Author's Note:**

> Flailing because LJ's down. Posting this to keep busy meantime.

_She looks just like you._

That's what he's thinking, as he rolls up the most important piece of paper he's ever been handed by anyone and stuffs it carefully into his bag. He stands up when the train's at full stop, helps an old woman get her pack down out of the overhead compartment, and walks behind her with an easy smile, keeping pace to her limp until they're off the train. She leans back, her rich blue eyes filled with mistrust, and mutters, "Sorry," trying to scoot out of the way.

"Don't be," he answers warmly, and means it, and offers her a hand up when they reach the edge of the platform, which is not quite even with the train. Some thread of tension pulls free in her face when he does, and it's like all the wrinkles slip away and she's young again, being helped off the train by a handsome, cheery boy like him, and she teasingly flirts with him till he blushes and laughs.

He actually laughs. It surprises him, and when foot traffic blows them apart, him headed south and the old lady west, they both leave with a spring in their step.

Kotetsu wends through the city with an eye to his watch for the time. It's a little too late to drop in on the office, Lloyds will be out; but it's not too late for a call, except he's not sure if he should make the call or who ought to be told first. His thoughts stray back to the smiling face of his daughter; that familiar aura on her; the picture he's carrying like a relic of historic significance in his bag.

First order of business, hang that up, he decides. Next, call Antonio and take him out for drinks. Kotetsu hasn't bought Antonio drinks in at least two months. He feels like he owes the guy. Plus, Antonio is probably the first person he should tell.

In his head, he's still talking to Tomoe, because she's the hardest sell. His feet move a little quicker along the streets of Stern Bild as he realizes the sky's graying down with clouds rolling in. It's been a pretty wet year, here. This might even be the same storm that blew through his hometown, to be quite honest.

 _She looks just like you, you know. She looks lonely._

He makes it under cover just before the first wave of rain bursts forth from the clouds, a spattering of heavy droplets, a frigid breeze and bone-freezing water. With a shiver, Kotetsu shifts his pack more firmly onto his back, hugs himself, and dodges back out into it, as if his heart is a candle flame and he is protecting it, trying to keep it lit until he makes it home.

 _That's why- it's okay, isn't it? I've got to do this for her. I know I promised, but if I can't even be a Hero for the people who matter, then--_

His phone rings as he's turning a corner, and he's distracted from his internal monologue and where his feet are going as he fumbles with his pocket, trying to fish the phone out from a fold of the lining it's caught under. It's Barnaby, so he's a little surprised, but he answers, just as thunder's blaring overhead like an epic fanfare.

"Hey, Bunny. What's up?"

There's a startled pause, then a soft sound that's almost like a laugh on the other end of the line. "You're always full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Sure, I am." Kotetsu lunges across a narrow street where traffic isn't too bad but the puddles are only going to get bigger, hopping as nimbly as he can to evade soaking through his shoes. It only sort of works. "What do you mean? How're you doing?" he can't keep the vigor out of his voice and doesn't really even try. "Isn't it great out, Bunny?"

"You're _in_ Stern Bild?" Barnaby mutters, and Kotetsu can just picture him now, rubbing at the bridge of his nose and resettling his glasses. "It's- well, it's nice from here." That minor concession paints a picture. Kotetsu can see it now, Barnaby lounging alone in that tower of solitude, staring out over the stormy city, trying to pick the best place to build his dream. Barnaby's a big player, always has been. Somehow the lounge-above-the-clouds-playing-God thing works for him. "It sounds like you're out in the middle of it, though. Did you come back early?"

"Yeah!" He ducks as a car swims by through the rapidly flooding streets, narrowly evading a solid splash by some very cold and sludgy water, racing on ahead in the hope that he'll make the last two blocks home without getting soaked completely through. "Kinda funny story about that. Hey, so why'd you call?"

Nothing, on the other end of the line. Kotetsu can smell the trees in the nearby park, thick and wet as they soak up what falls, can smell freshly turned soil in a few people's winter gardens. It's so cold, though, he's surprised people aren't putting up tarps to keep out frost. And then: "I was just going to leave a message."

"Oh!" The idea of wanting to talk to someone you know isn't around badly enough to leave a message is strangely familiar, even though he hasn't been in a similar position in years. It's not that he doesn't wish he had someone to talk to all that often, even, but he hasn't had anyone to call, really. He dashes the last little bit home, dropping his bag in the shallow alcove in front of the door and jamming his hand into his pocket, searching for keys. "I could um, hang up and let you call back if you want. Leave your message and then. That sounds ridiculous, doesn't it?"

Barely, he can imagine Barnaby's too-patient smile, complete with eye-roll. Mostly, he's fumbling with his keys in the lock and trying not to feel too much of the chill. "Yes, it does." The lock grudgingly turns over, fighting him the whole way, and he shoves the door wide, not minding if it splatters a few droplets of rain on the floor. "Why'd you come back early?"

Is that a hopeful note to Barnaby's voice? Kotetsu opens his mouth to answer as he's crouching down to pick up his suitcase and drag it inside, and then feels unusually embarrassed. "Uh, funny you should ask, actually." Once he's closed the door behind him, he's suddenly, acutely aware of how quiet it is on his end of the line and how much more quiet it is on Barnaby's end of the line.

A nervous sort of quiet. Anticipatory.

So he forces himself to smile. "Remember how I said I wanted my kid to think I was cool?"

"I do," Barnaby answers in a warm and oddly mellow tone that makes Kotetsu think of smoky pool-halls and late nights. Same amber sort of empathy, there. "Did she prove you wrong?"

Buoyed by the memory, and by the slightly hopeful, inquisitive sound of Barnaby's voice on the other end of the line, Kotetsu nods. The kitchen light is stubborn to come on, but once it's glowing he turns on the stove and fishes in the fridge for something easy to make. _Not_ fried rice, just to spite his mother. "Yeah, actually. It was-" He's surprised at how hushed he gets, how quiet and kind of sad. "It was nice. It was scary!" He starts pacing through the kitchen with remembered adrenaline rush. "And she's really alone out there, so I started thinking about it. I ought to be there for her more, you know?"

Barnaby doesn't answer at all for a moment, and then he sounds cautiously optimistic. "You're going to take more time to visit her, then?"

It's funny, he would never have guessed that the uptight kid he met last year would have ever understood how important family is. Never in a thousand years would he have believed that Barnaby Brooks Jr. would sound delighted at the idea of a father spending more time with his child. "Yeah!" He can't help a self-conscious grin. "It's like you said; I was looking at a goal, even though I felt like I'd never make it. What I need to do is follow a dream."

"And your dream is to spend more time with your daughter," Barnaby finishes, the mood abruptly shifting from friendly support to a faint sense of horror. Kotetsu fishes a frozen chicken breast out of the freezer, tosses it into his microwave to defrost and starts warming up the pan. He's got onions and bell peppers and garlic; all of that together with the chicken should taste tolerable, anyway.

"Yeah!" It's funny, how he's already regretting this decision, as if he's already moving away. He really should tell Antonio as soon as he can so they can cram in a few last hangouts before he calls it quits. "Yeah. I-"

Kotetsu swallows, throat suddenly dry, and laughs, a little out of his depth.

"Working with you has been an honor," he admits, a little embarrassed to sound so mushy. Plus, it's not like he won't see Barnaby when he goes in to turn in his resignation tomorrow. "I'm glad I'll be able to go out knowing that you're here to keep things safe."

Barnaby doesn't say anything at all.

"...Bunny?"

"Old man," and oh. Oh. "Is this a joke?"

Oh.

"I-"

"Because I told you only for a little while," and oh, damn, Kotetsu has never been good with words and when the bell peppers start burning he only notices because the smoke is so acrid it stings his eyes. He moves the pan to a burner not on and rubs at his face with his free hand. "I didn't say I'd be fine _without_ you. We're a team. You know that."

"But-"

"Why would you even--" and there's a tremor in Barnaby's voice that makes Kotetsu flinch in guilt, his dinner and his positive attitude forgotten. The microwave beeps to let him know his chicken is ready to be cooked properly, but he doesn't bother, walking slowly out of the kitchen. "That's not funny, Kotetsu."

He swallows again, this time because there's a lump in his throat and he doesn't know what to say.

"I want you to be with your daughter, but we're Heroes." Heroes, Kotetsu can hear, with a capital H, an H that Barnaby picked up from him. An emphasis that Kotetsu has upheld because it was all he had for a while there, and because he's always been a fan of heroes.

For the first time since he'd gone home, it occurs to him that maybe he is trying to take the easy way out. Quietly disappearing without letting anyone know there's anything wrong with him. Does he have the right to pull that off?

To leave Barnaby high and dry, with no one to confide in or rely on?

It's too embarrassing to admit that there's a selfish reason behind that too, that Kotetsu Kaburagi has too much pride in being seen as useful to want to let on that he's lost his edge. Humiliating. Frightening. So he forces a tired chuckle, and apologizes. "You're right, of course. I'm sorry; you're right."

It's thundering like the end of the world outside, rain a battalion's cry, the constant spray of freezing bullets.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

He hangs up, and unpacks, tacking up Kaede's drawing in the living room. Tossing the chicken breast and the burnt veggies, he decides to forego dinner, and goes upstairs to bed. Tomorrow, he'll need to call Kaede to let her know what happened, that he has to stay on a bit longer. It's like Tomoe said: he's got to be a Hero and protect the people of the city. It's what he promised to do.

Until his powers are gone, he might as well keep doing it.


End file.
